


Saint Eustacius's Week

by The_Wretched_Art_of_Nocturne (Duckfeet_Mcgee)



Category: Nevermoor Series - Jessica Townsend
Genre: #LetMogBeHappy2021, Buckle in kids, F/F, Found Family, I'll update the tags as I go, Valentines day baybeeeee, Wholesome, and it'll probably be a dumpster fire, bc this is my first multi-chap fic, but not actually valentines day cuz that would be too easy, frank in this fic is just me lol, frank is the most relatable character and that is NOT up for debate, world-building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29300088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckfeet_Mcgee/pseuds/The_Wretched_Art_of_Nocturne
Summary: Morrigan couldn’t help but stare, slack-jawed. “There’s a whole festival to celebrate a ghost that beheads people?” she said, shocked. Sure, Nevermoor was unconventional, but this seemed a little off base.orWhen a strange Nevermoorian Valentine's festival shows up Morrigan is excited to spend the week with friends! Meanwhile, one friend in particular has big plans...
Relationships: Cadence Blackburn/Morrigan Crow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Saint Eustacius's Week

**Author's Note:**

  * For [c_morrigan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_morrigan/gifts).



> Hiya guys! As you may have gathered, I'm pretty new to this whole fanfiction thing, so I don't really know the AO3 etiquette (if there is such a thing lol). FOR EXAMPLE, gifting a fic to someone?? Is that something you're only supposed to do with friends?? Am I handing an internet stranger my firstborn child?? I don't know! But c_morrigan's comment on my last fic was so sweet and managed to jolt me out of a months-long writer's block, so it seemed fitting to dedicate this to them! So thank you, stranger! 🥰🥰
> 
> Without further ado, the story!

Morrigan was having a good afternoon. In fact, that might have been an understatement, Morrigan was having a _great_ afternoon. Fenestra had been engaged in an impromptu jousting tournament that morning, and by three o’clock she was so tired that she made no protests as Morrigan and Jupiter snuggled into her fluffy pelt. The three of them lounged about the fireplace, a rare still silence filing Jupiter’s office. And with Fen softly purring in her ear and the hearth roaring in the background, Morrigan hadn’t felt so content in ages. Beside her Jupiter seemed similarly relaxed, eyes shut and torso half-buried in Fen’s magnificent coat. It seemed like the perfect time to nod off, and Morrigan could almost feel her eyes slowly…

“JOVE!!!”

_Thump!_

Morrigan hit the ground with a smack as Fenestra jumped up, every hair standing on end. Jupiter groaned, rubbing what was sure to be a bruise on his temple. She herself was certain that her shoulder would be bright purple by tomorrow morning. Meanwhile… 

“Truly, a catastrophe, a NIGHTMARE! Jove!” Frank cried, grabbing Jupiter by the lappels and shaking him vigorously. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT’S AT STAKE? My reputation, my life’s work! My coveted title as most mysterious party planner of the age!” With this, he let out a dramatic wail, collapsing against the desk in a pile of black-clad angst. Morrigan certainly admired his commitment to the aesthetic. 

“What’s wrong this time Frank?” Jupiter asked with a sigh, running his hand through his gingery mane.

“What’s wrong, he asks”, Frank scoffed, giving Jupiter a truly impressive stink eye. She would have to take notes. “I wonder, what _could_ be wrong, Jove? Could it be that a certain _someone_ left the door to my office open and a troop of lemurs walked in and ATE all of my plans just THREE DAYS before SAINT EUSTACIOUS’S WEEK!?!?” Frank was red in the face by the end of his tirade, before slumping back into his chair again, the picture of distress. 

“Oh, is that all?” Jupiter said, perking up. He gave Frank a sunny smile. “Well, that’s hardly a challenge for you, Frankie! You’re the best in the biz! In fact, I seem to recall you planned Giuseppi Adovo’s wedding reception with only--”

“Twelve hours and a tub of hot fudge,” Frank said begrudgingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jupiter beamed. “See? _The_ biz”.

Frank huffed, throwing his cape over his shoulder as he rose from his seat. “Of course _you_ wouldn’t take this seriously”. He drew open the door with a flourish. “I expect hazard pay!” And then with a dramatic slam he was gone. 

“I suppose we won’t be seeing much of him over the next few days”, Jupiter chuckled, giving Morrigan’s hair a playful ruffle. “Old Eust’s week always gets him in a bad way”.

“What is Saint Eustacius’s week?” Morrigan finally asked, perching on the edge of his desk as Jupiter settled into his chair. 

“Goodness Mog, you don’t-- well. I suppose you _wouldn’t_ know.” Jupiter scratched his chin in thought. “Saint Eustacius was an important part of Nevermoorian history. _Waaaaaaaay_ back in the Age of Misogamists, this young Saint by the name of Eustacius fell in love and quickly became so enamored with the idea of love that he _had_ to spread it. He went parading around town encouraging everyone to express their true feelings. Of course, this _was_ the age of Misogamists, and the poor lad was promptly beheaded.” Morrigan jolted back, nearly falling off the desk. Nevermoor’s history was often brutal in unexpected ways, but still. She couldn’t help but feel bad for this poor Eustacius. 

“Anywho, they regretted that right soon” Jupiter added cheerily. “Because after they threw his body into the River Jurro, his ghost emerged pretty quick. And he did just the same thing he does these days, ran around for a whole week in mid-February, popping the heads off of any people who don’t believe in love.” He chuckled, “Aro-spectrum folks get the week off to skip town”.

Morrigan couldn’t help but stare, slack-jawed. “There’s a whole festival to celebrate a ghost that beheads people?” she said, shocked. Sure, Nevermoor was unconventional, but this seemed a little off base. 

“Nah, the festival just lines up with Eust’s beheading week to honor his memory. The _real_ job is to celebrate love and romance, just like old Eustacius” Jupiter fumbled around in his desk drawer for a moment, before triumphantly pulling out a crumpled pink paper heart. He presented it to Morrigan with a flourish. “And for the Deucalion, that means a week of parties, dinners, and romantic soirees. No beheading involved”.

“And a shame that is too” Fenestra drawled from the corner, making Morrigan start in her seat. For such a large Magnificat, Fen certainly knew how to fade into the background. “All the mushy-gushy stuff makes me sick”.

“Oh! We had something like that in Wintersea!” Morrigan could recall fondly the hundreds of crepe paper hearts taped to every imaginable surface, the fancy masks adorning every face, and -best of all- buckets and buckets of chocolate. Everyone knew the Hearts Festival was just there so that the people wouldn’t riot during tax season, but still. It was a nice sentiment. 

Fen huffed, running her sharp claws over the wood floor with an obnoxious shrieking noise. She padded out of the room, pouffy sides brushing against the doorframe. “Well, I’ll be in my den, avoiding all of you disgusting romantics until the week’s up. _Don’t_ disturb me”.

“I’ll be off too, Mog,” Jupiter said, straightening his jacket with a winning smile. “League of Explorers can’t league without me. Cheers!” With that he made his way out of the room, sparkly dress shoes tapping with every loping stride. Morrigan left soon after.

As she walked back to her room, Morrigan couldn’t help but get excited. The Festival of Hearts had always been one of her few positive memories of Crow Manor, a time when everyone but her father was in high spirits. She could remember that one particular Left had brought her gingerbread hearts in a pretty tin, which she’d saved long after the treats were gone. _I wonder where that tin is now?_ The thought hit her like a bolt. She’d rescued Emmet, but what might have happened to all the rest of her things? Was her tin full of trinkets sitting in some forgotten corner of Crow Manor, collecting dust? Or, worse. _Had it been thrown out?_

Morrigan shuddered, shaking off the disturbing thought. This was _not_ the time to think about that, she should be excited! After years she was going to experience the Hearts Festival again, and she was sure Nevermoor would give it its own unique twist. Morrigan looked down at the pale pink heart Jupiter had given her, smoothing out its wrinkles. She grinned, holding in a giddy squeal. Next week was going to be _amazing!_

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!! Idk what my upload schedule is gonna look like for this, but hopefully I'll have another chapter up before Valentine's Day! We'll see tho...education is a cruel mistress :(
> 
> Also, idk if anyone else knows what I'm talking about, but I totally imagine frank as looking like the wannabe vampire card in Munchkin lol. Even though he canonically has hair, he just gives me those vibes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
